I used to joke around saying that whenever I would feel depressed, I would drink a bottle of kid’s shampoos due to their famous slogan of “No Tears!” to wash the sadness away.

I have recently learn that No Tears! does not mean what I have always believed. It actually means that your hair doesn’t get tangled and when brushed, you would not tear it. No Tears [te(ə)r] rather than No Tears [ti(ə)r]

Phrases like, “Those things which I am saying now may be obscure, yet they will be made clearer in their proper place,” and, “To know that we know what we know, and to know that we do not know what we do not know, that is true knowledge,” make me think that the Polish Renaissance mathematician and astronomer, was just a pretentious egocentric narcissist who realized he wasn’t the center of the universe.

He was so absorbed by the thought of him not being in the middle of it all that he came up with the comprehensive heliocentric model which places the Sun, rather than the Earth, at the center of the universe, therefore, removing everybody else from being the center of the universe.

Today I read a poem that somehow moved me. The poem itself is not very good but it does a very good job at capturing the anger and the desperation of a mocked soul, of someone who has suffered greatly for following his passions by those who do not understand them.

The most peculiar aspect about the poem is that it was never translated from its original Latin until almost 2000 years later. It was thought to be so vulgar and offensive that no one dared attempt translate it to any other language. The first line of the poem has been declared one of the most vulgar and filthiest lines ever written in Latin.

The poem, though very uncivil and indecent for the time it was written, does not seem completely out of place once read completely. I felt unreservedly moved by the feelings of anger and frustration portrayed by Catullus, author of the poem. I can completely relate to him for I, too, have felt the same way towards other people, especially when I so strongly hold on to my morals and others show utter indifference to the thing I most hold dear.

I just had the most astounding and sensational auditive experience anybody has ever had in their life. It’s like that mad scientist who sent a signal into space waiting for a response, and on his dead bed, he finally heard a static from outer space knowing that it was all worth the wait. Or like a father whose son has been mute since birth and his first words are, “Father, I love you.” Or like the words of acceptance of a rigid father for his gay son when after years of denial he finally…alright, maybe my experience was nothing like those things and I am exaggerating right now, or maybe since I am not a scientists on the brink of death, a father with an incapacitated son, or gay, I think my experience is similar.

Either way, I have discovered something that has brought me great joy.

Many Radiohead fans believe that there is a masterpiece hidden in plain view. It involves OK Computer (1997) and In Rainbows (2007). These are arguably two of the best albums recorded by what is arguably one of the best bands in the world. Separate, they are both great experiences and received a great number of accolades when they were released. But given the similarities of both albums, many people believe they are part of an overarching plan that took 10 years to finalize. For starters, both albums have the same pattern for the title, both are a two-letter word followed by an eight-letter word. The themes of doom and despair are present in both and it progresses into a false sense of accomplishment and followed by hope in both albums. Also, when you considered all the clues left by Thom Yorke previous to its release, In Rainbows seems to compliment its 10-yeard old brother.

Whether this is true or just plain coincidence, both albums merge together musically, lyrically and thematically in a way that is beautiful in its nature.

To create the playlist, which fans have named 01 and 10, one must alternate the albums track by track, starting with OK Computer‘s “Airbag”, followed by In Rainbows‘s “15 Step”, and so on, until we reach “Karma Police” which should be followed by “Fittier Happier” from the same album. This marks the bridge of the 01 and 10 experience, at which point one continues to alternate albums once more.

This might not bear much impact to those who do not like Radiohead or only know “Creep,” but for me, it has been an incredible experience that only reinforces my beliefs in Radiohead as the greatest band in the world.

As I was leaving my job one afternoon, after a 10-hour work day, an old acquaintance from school, whom I had not had any contact for the past 3 years other than the few comments we would exchange in Facebook, called me to invite me to a party over the weekend and also to “hang out one of these days”. The conversation started with a simple greeting and an inquiry regarding how I had been lately. I gave him an uninterested response, as if I did not care for the fact that he was calling me after all these years, but it was actually due to more important matters lingering my mind. I told him that I was fine and also happy that he had called me. I was not really fine and “happy” was masqueraded by indifference. I’d had a relatively stressful day at work and I still needed to go to the bank, with a 15-minute drive and only 7 min before End of Business. I was also wearing an outfit that accentuated that fact that I had gained weight lately and I also needed to pump gas. These are all minimal annoyances but they still managed to make me feel on the opposite side of the “I am fine, thanks for asking” a normal person, having a normal conversation, would usually say. I ended our phone call telling him that I was going to a concert the day of the party and that I would call him over the weekend to get together and do something. I was not sure if I was going to go to the concert yet and I didn’t really had in mind to call him, yet I still made it seemed otherwise only to be polite.

I go about my daily life having these conversations, and even though I proud myself on being an honest person who speaks his mind, I seldom tell the truth regarding normal everyday stuff.

There have been many times in my life when I wanted to truly be honest with somebody. Being able to say that I was completely open with at least one person throughout my life and that I was truly myself around that someone. Many times it was required of me to be honest, other times people actually deserved for me to be truthful with them. Whether it was someone from my family, a co-worker, a girlfriend, close friend, or a church member. In many cases it would have even made my life less complicated at the moment. Yet, every truth that I have ever said has been thinly veiled by a lie. Sometimes, I will utter lies without being able to stop myself. That is why I believe I suffer of Pseudologia Fantastica, better know as pathological lying.

In 1891, German Psychiatrist, Anton Delbruck, came up with the idea of a mental disorder in which the patient will compulsively lie or feel the need to distort the truth in a habitual manner. He called it Pseudoligia Fantastica. One of the definitions of Pathological Lying is “the falsification entirely disproportionate to any discernible end in view, may be extensive and very complicated, and may manifest over a period of years or even a lifetime.” Even though we might look at our every-day lives and see nothing wrong with the actions we take, there is a certain dishonesty in the way we present ourselves.

Most people with a Facebook profile present parts of themselves in this public forum that think would make other people think of them in a way they want to be seen. We aren’t always our Tweeter feed or what our Timeline shows. Everybody has that “alter-ego” that we present to the world. Sometimes it is who we are, but only with the proper context, people are going to know who we really are. The sad truth is that nobody will ever know anybody. Ever.

I agree with the fact that truth is not our most favorable ally all the time. Sometimes it is better to tell a lie than to honestly express what we think or feel, but over time, we create an idea of who we are and we act as that person, based on the lies and half-truths we have told. It is the old Does-This-Dress-Make-Me-Look-Fat dilemma that every man, at one point, will find himself in.

Considering that we all lie, I have come to believe that I am a special kind of liar. Not only am I a pathological liar, I am also a cynical liar. I like telling brutally honest truths so that later I may get away with some outrageous lies. I am a very manipulative person and opening up as a sincere individual allows me to do that. I know how this sounds. I must be a horrible human being if I do these kinds of things AND I write about them, but the problem is that I am not always aware I am doing it and when I am, I do it in an ironic way, almost as if testing how far I can go. I always plan on telling the truth afterwards but sometimes I forget that I was lying to begin with.

I am not sure if being aware of this is the first step for overcoming a psychological condition or if it makes me a conceited asshole who is aware of it and does nothing about it. Only my inability to establish meaningful relations will tell.

It is farcical and absurd to categorize people to different sub cultures based on how they dress, what they watch, what they listen to, write about, and even eat. I do not want to be called Preppy because I wear Abercrombie & Fitch. I do not want to be called Beatnik because I enjoy Ginsberg’s “Howl.” I do not want to be called Otaku because I read Manga and watch Bleach. I do not want to be called Emo because I write about my Sunday afternoon depressions. Nobody likes to be categorized under a label that we believe we do not fall into, even if we do everything that is normally associated to that epithet. But really, who comes up with theses labels? Who decides who will be a Goth and who will be an Oherkin? Who will be a Zazou and who will be a Pachuco? Who decides who is who or what? We do.

As I kid, I was told that if I wanted to be smart, I needed to read more books and watch less TV. That’s what I did. Not because I wanted to be smarted, nut because I wanted to be seen as a really smart kid. I reveled on the fact that people would say that I was pretty smart for my age and that I was very mature. I enjoyed it the praises I’d get so much that I decided to show people who I still knew more that I let other believe I did. When I was 14. I researched books that were considered complex or that only “intellectual people would read. So I came across Thomas Pynchon’s Gravity’s Rainbow, it inspired many artists such as Devo, Radiohead, and Can so I thought it should be something I need to read in order to maintain my “indie” credibility. I read it and I did not understand it. I t wasn’t until I was 21 that I was able to grasp its more mature themes and concepts. Yet, I was happy I had read it. I could now tell people I knew Pynchon’s magnus opus.

I was seeking individualism under a category or sub culture that someone else had created, and at many times, rejected. In doing so, I was no longer an individual. I was a sheep.

We like to make fun of people who listen to Justin Bieber, people who watch Jersey Shore and go to raves, or people who wear Ed Hardy t-shirts. “They are only following trends, they are not original, they are insipid and have neither cultural value nor taste.” I used to make fun, and to a certain degree I still do, of people follow into any category I do not fall into. But I am really no authority to decide what is socially acceptable as art and what isn’t, neither are the people who do.

Voltaire once said, “I do not agree with what you have to say, but I’ll defend to death your right to say it.” This mentality has brought me to accept people and what they have to say and what they want to do. I accept neither trends nor fashion statements. I do not accept music genres nor do I accept religions, or political movements. I do not accept ideas. I ACCEPT IDEALS, I ACCEPT PEOPLE.

Originality is overrated and so is individualism. There isn’t a single thought that I could possibly have that hasn’t been in other people’s minds over a million times. Yet nobody has had the same unoriginal thoughts that I’ve had in the same lifetime. It’s not the music I listen to, not the books I read, not the way I dress or the people I hang out with. It’s my Ideals and my Unoriginal thoughts that make me original and Individual.